Re: In the woods, near a path
Wallflower hadn't ever died. Who died these days? Not her. Boys didn't want zombie girls, no matter what the Walking Dead would have you believe. Wallflower was alive from marrow to skin. She'd never felt the cold kiss of death. What would make you think she had? You're barking up the wrong tree, Wolf. Little Bo wasn't Red with her hood, remember? Don't label her. She was on this path of her own volition. Her feet had led her here in those fabulous heels, and she'd sought out the worship of a nightmare thing with pointy teeth. But consent matters, boys, and she wasn't a given. Not in the sack and not in the coffin, so don't get ahead of yourself. She was here to buy adoration, and taking it from something that wanted to tear her asunder didn't sound so bad.
She thought she had it in the bag, and Romeo would have trouble convincing her otherwise. Belief made things true, don't ya know? She did know, and what she knew was law. Everybody knew that. Even very bad men had vulnerabilities. Just look at Romeo, or aren't we calling him a very bad man? Rosaline might disagree with you... but maybe not. After all, Rosaline survived. Juliet considered changing her name, but not yet. She wasn't done yet.
Her nails were pretty little things. Unpainted, blunt and without even one jagged edge. They were flawless, just like she was flawless. She wasn't Type A. Don't get me wrong, but her nails were flawless, just like the rest of her. "You're not jealous," she told him, a smile and no bravado in the sticky-sweet utterance. "Not yet, but you will be. Imaginary boyfriend, real boyfriend, you'll be jealous. You'll remember me, and you'll know I'm not yours, and you'll be jealous." There was conviction in her lullaby words, there was certainty in her toothsome smile. She was high on it, so high, and she never wanted to come down. Let the balloon of this feeling carry her ever upward. They were going to have to pop her in order to ever get her down. Give her lead shoes and tie a rope around her waist, because this girl was floating away.
Girls like her didn't play hide and seek, but she had something that helped her when it came to hiding in the woods. Call it femininity, at least for tonight, because girls grew up hiding from the Big Bad Wolf. But Juliet-turned-Red wasn't a hider. No point, and even less so tonight. She hid, but it wasn't out of fear. Come here, kitty kitty kitty. Good dog, but he wasn't where she'd expected him to be. If he was watching, there was a moment where she twirled around and looked, but then she took off down the path again. The swish of her hips was so perfect that it was almost musical in its meter and rhythm, and the smile on her lips said she knew she hadn't been deserted. Who would leave her behind? No one, that's who.
When he captured her waist, she was ready. No fighting and no trembling and that took you long enough. The slip of gaze she let skip along his curled hands was pebble-on-pond brief. Her smile was Cheshire of the pale pink variety. Moonlight kissed her freckles, and she sighed with what she thought was pretty exasperation. She touched the back of his hands with her perfect fingers. "I bet you say that to all the girls. You have to tell me something about yourself if you want to keep me," she challenged. Instinct was a sway of her hips before she put some distance between leather and butter-pink-fabric. "That's the price." He didn't think he was allowed to just take, did he? She wasn't giving it away, remember? She did. Don't let the girl fool you.